


Unicorn Turds (part 3)

by jennamacaroni



Series: Unicorn Turds [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:39:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2002470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennamacaroni/pseuds/jennamacaroni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana Lopez has been crushing on Brittany Pierce since she was a first year.  But Brittany is the most popular girl in school and a star quidditch player, and Santana is practically invisible…  Harry Potter AU Brittana.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unicorn Turds (part 3)

Santana takes the stairs two at time up the four flights between the library and Gryffindor Tower, Brittany’s note still clutched tightly in her clammy hand. She skids to a stop before the portrait of the Fat Lady, who looks up disinterestedly while continuing to file her nails.

“Well?” she drawls, eyeing a disheveled Santana up and down.

“Felix culpa,” Santana manages, resting her hands on her knees while catching her breath. The portrait swings open in a flourish, but not without an exasperated sigh from the Fat Lady at the obviously unwelcome interruption. Santana climbs through with a hurried “thanks!” and speeds into the common area, scanning the room quickly.

“Oh my god!” she shrieks, immediately throwing up her elbow to shield her face from the sight of Rachel draped over her boyfriend Finn Hudson’s lap in a chair by the fireplace, their mouths open and suctioned to each other sloppily.

At Santana’s sudden outburst, Rachel yelps and tumbles face first out of Finn’s lap into a heap on the floor. “Owww,” she whines, rubbing at her elbow as Finn stumbles to his massive feet and pulls her upright.

“Can’t you two find a closet somewhere to do that? And god, it’s like he was giving you mouth to mouth but also trying to swallow your tongue and I’ve seen things I cannot unsee. It’s going to haunt my dreams, I’m telling you,” Santana complains, her high from the library encounter with Brittany ebbing.

“Just because you…”

“Save the lecture, would you? Something happened and I need to talk to you stat. No boys allowed,” Santana snaps, shooting a warning glare in Finn’s direction. He shrugs dumbly and shuffles off to the boy’s dormitory without another word.

“Well, that was extremely rude, Santana,” Rachel snips matter-of-factly, pulling her loosened neck tie tight and centered. “Now what is so important that you just had to interrupt a steamy Finchel makeout sesh?”

“First of all, ew. Second of all,” Santana pauses, checking over her shoulder to make sure no one is eavesdropping. “I talked to Brittany.”

Rachel’s eyes bug out of her head comically, mouth dropping open in shock as she lets out a dramatic gasp. Santana feels that goofy grin slip back onto her own face as Rachel goes from dumbfounded to bouncing up and down clapping her hands excitedly. “SANTANA this is just WONDERFUL. Tell me everything!” she gushes, yanking Santana by the hand to the nearest couch.

“Well, it wasn’t really a conversation, per se. She asked my name and then had me distract Madame Pince while she snuck into the Restricted Section,” Santana explains, telling Rachel the complete story. “But she left me this note and said she’d owe me,” she finishes, unraveling the small piece of parchment with a shy smile.

“So, let me get this straight. Brittany sneaks up on you and then convinces you to become an accomplice to her rule-breaking?” Rachel accuses, snatching the paper abruptly.

“Yup, that’s pretty much how it went down. But now she not only knows what I look like but she also knows my NAME!” At that realization, Santana freezes, eyes widening. “Oh my god, she knows my name. Oh god, I helped her break into the Restricted Section! What do you think she was doing in there? Can’t be up to anything good though, right? Oh god, I acted like a blubbering idiot!” Santana rambles, running her hand repeatedly through her hair with exasperation.

“Just calm down, Santana,” Rachel soothes, grabbing Santana’s hands to still them. “It’s not like YOU actually snuck in there, right? And you didn’t get caught so no harm, no foul. Plus you’re no longer invisible AND Brittany knows your name. Eeek! I’m so proud of you!” she squeals, before throwing her arms around Santana and hugging her hard.

“Oof! Easy, Berry,” Santana chides affectionately, returning the hug stiffly. “Now we need to talk about where you and TrollBoy are allowed to make out…”

_____

That night, Santana lies awake in the girl’s dormitory, eyes tracing the moonlight painting the ceiling in a long arc and counting Rachel’s snores when she hears the faintest tapping on the window behind her headboard. She ignores it at first, only finally sitting up and squinting against the moonlight and out the window as the taps get louder and more persistent. There’s a dark silhouette within the window frame, and it takes Santana’s eyes a moment to adjust as she grabs her glasses off the bedside table and pushes them up the bridge of her nose. Santana feels her stomach drop suddenly because hovering outside her window in mid-air is Brittany, grinning widely and motioning her to open up. Santana looks behind her to ensure none of her dorm mates have woken up before turning back and cracking open the window.

“What are you doing?!” Santana hisses incredulously, leaning out onto the sill to find Brittany perched upon her racing broom.

“Well, I owed you for that little distraction in the library earlier today, so I’m paying up,” Brittany hushes. “Now get on.”

Santana feels her mouth fall open. “Um, what?”

“Get on,” Brittany repeats, turning in mid-air to expose the back side of her broom and scooting up to give Santana room.

“I don’t know, I’m not very good on a broom by myself, never mind sharing one,” Santana hesitates.

“Don’t be such a worry wort, Santana,” Brittany teases, beckoning her once more with a nod of her head. Santana doesn’t miss the way her own fingers start to tingle with electricity at the sound of Brittany saying her name. She should care more about her ratty and hole-strewn sleep shirt and what she looks like without makeup, but the butterflies pinging violently around her gut propel her forward as she climbs awkwardly through the open window, placing a sweaty palm on Brittany’s shoulder and throwing a leg over the back of the broom.

“Hold on tight,” Brittany whispers over her shoulder, throwing Santana a grin and shooting off into the starry night. Santana barely manages to clasp her hands around Brittany’s middle before all she hears is rushing wind and the pulse of her own thumping heart.

Santana tries not to think about how every part of her body that touches Brittany’s feels like fiendfyre.

 

_Note: felix culpa is Latin for “fortunate fault” (Gryffindor common room password)_


End file.
